Two nemeses, one broom closet (edited and extended 23 6 2014)
by Obje-re-ction
Summary: Hate-sexing at the Gatewater Imperial Hotel.


I'm on my way back to my hotel room after having finished an excellent lunch in the hotel's dining room. I hear quick, light steps behind me but I don't reflect on who could be making them. The door to a broom closet is opened and I figure it's the cleaning lady.

"What the-?!" Somebody's grabbing me, dragging me away before I can even react. I look down and see the wrist of my kidnapper, who is wearing a ridicilous walkie-talkie, and I realize I should have seen it coming.

I'm being thrown into the broom closet and for a split second I think he's going to lock me in there and get rid of the competition for tomorrow. Instead he enters as well, locking the door behind him. "I think we're alone now" he grins. "You idiot!" I throw myself against him and grab his collar with the intention to strangle him, knock his head into the doorpost or both. "Dude, relax." He draws his hand through his hair, and put his chin up so that he can look down on me. The adrenaline in my body sky-rockets because of my anger, and, although it hurts to admit it, a tiny bit of fear.

He's the person I like the least in the entire world, which also means that he's the person I feel the most strongly against in the entire world. That has taken its toll on me these last days; being on rehearsals with him, sharing a dressing room, seeing him casually walking down a hotel corridor. It has given me a strange fixation with him, even when I can't see him I always know if he's present – or at least I thought so until he sneaked up on me just a minute ago. I was ashamed of my unvoluntary obsession with him, but standing before him like this I draw the conclusion he's had the same struggling. Maybe now is the time to release some tension. I smell his deodorant and perfume and before I know it I'm directing my fury against the zipper of his jacket. That damn jacket is so provokingly ugly he'd be better off without it anyway, and only now do I allow the thought I didn't want to express even to myself before: how my strong feelings and reactions towards him borders to lusting.

He lets me take his jacket off without a single comment. Underneath it he wears a dark grey t-shirt through which I can see the contours of his abs. I feel his vivid gaze on me but I can't meet it, I look at the door and realize that my top priority isn't to get out of it anymore. He grabs my scarf and pulls me closer to him, then he grabs my neck and pulls me even closer, all the way to his face and I let it happen, but after all of that his lips presses too lightly onto mine and his tongue is too soft. I decide to show him how it's supposed to be done: I grab his tight ass with both of my hands and bite his lower lip as my tongue presses down his throat. Next thing I know is the feeling of my body slamming against the opposite wall in this narrow space and he rips the scarf from my neck mumbling "I'm gonna kill you… I'm gonna fucking kill you", he leans against me as he's unbuttoning my shirt and my erection presses against his thigh.

When my shirt is opened I pull it off and he takes a step back and starts getting out of his own clothes. I deal with my shoes and socks while my eyes are fixed on him the entire time. He undresses confidently, seemingly unaware that I'm looking. His shoulders are broad and his whole body looks flexible. He throws his t-shirt in my face and asks "Is your cock as big as rumour has it?", I've never heard such rumours but I simply answer yes, not wanting to encourage him to talk anymore. "Let me see" he says and suddenly his hands are everywhere, squeezing into my pants at the same time as he tries to open them. I wave his hands away and get my pants off myself.

Now he's the one pressed against the wall, his eyes ar estern and he licks his lips. This is the closest we've been to each other since a day about two years ago when I sprained his elbow and he stomped on my head I think cynically as he takes a firm grip of my cock and steers it towards his anus. We're pressed against each other so tightly we nearly blend together, but our minds are completely seperated, and in a way it feels liberating. I don't have to care about him as I go fast and forcefully right from the start and my hips slam into his. He doesn't care about digging his nails into my back and leaving scratches on my skin. Then, right as I'm becoming warm and breathless, he grabs my shoulders so hard it almost hurts, screaming "Harder" right into my ear and for the first time in my life I gladly grant his wish.

Eventually I come, I draw my dick out of him and sperm drips on the floor. He finishes himself and starts searching for his underwear while I pick up my pants and my shoes. He wipes the puddles up from the floor using my scarf and it's so typical him I don't even get mad so I just crumble it up and kick it in under a shelf while buttoning my shirt. He only seems a little bit disappointed of my lack of reaction. Now we both are dressed and I unlock the door. Luckily enough the corridor is empty, and it seems bright and airy compared to the cramped broom closet. We head in opposite directions, he yells "See you sucker!" and laughs out loud, and I put my middle finger up without even looking back.


End file.
